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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252232">Just The Wind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian'>Andian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman: Arkham (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Introspection, Pre-Canon, Reference to past violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:27:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason wondered about it, sometimes. About the darkness that seemed to linger in Gotham, no matter the amount of street lights or billboards and neon signs of companies. It should have burnt away the dark, the bright lights of the city above eating up its dark underbelly but sometimes he’d catch himself staring at the giant bright W on Miagani Island until his eyes hurt and the afterimage of the letter almost started to look like wings.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trick or Treat Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just The Wind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_asock/gifts">chase_asock</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jason wondered about it, sometimes. About the darkness that seemed to linger in Gotham, no matter the amount of street lights or billboards and neon signs of companies. It should have burnt away the dark, the bright lights of the city above eating up its dark underbelly but sometimes he’d catch himself staring at the giant bright W on Miagani Island until his eyes hurt and the afterimage of the letter almost started to look like wings.</p><p>And that was the thing, wasn’t it? The light was a lie and it couldn’t ever hope to win against the dark. He should be thankful for it, he supposed. He spent most of his time in the dark now, even more than he had before, almost lived in it. A good place to hide, from enemies and friends alike though there were none left of the later really at this point. Not that he cared. They hadn’t helped. Nobody had and he was doing fine where he was now, here in the dark.</p><p>The darkness was good, it was useful, beneficial even, and he hated it. Hated it as much as he hated his memories and his own mind sometimes. Abruptly he stood up, leaving his hiding place on top of Bruford Tower. Batman had been spotted in the area and he had been sent to investigate. The thought of seeing Bruce again, even like this, in the mask and from afar, had made him clench his hand until his fingernails had bored into his palm, leaving angry marks.</p><p>He had been aware that Scarecrow had been watching him and he hadn’t cared. The man had already seen what was hiding in his head, had coaxed out what made him scream and cry and beg for mercy with his gas. He knew of his fear, he could have his hate too if he only kept his promise of granting him revenge.</p><p>But maybe his hate wasn’t quite enough just yet. He jumped down into a small alley, having made his way down the building easily. Impressive, Babs would have teased. You’ve certainly learnt to stop tearing up your costumes, Alfred would have drily added.</p><p>Swallowing heavily he started walking. He hadn’t even seen Bruce tonight. There was no need for their faces and voices to come back yet again. Not here, not in the dark.</p><p>The feeling of motion behind him suddenly and he whirled around, hands shooting towards his gun. There was nothing though in the darkness of the alley.</p><p>Just the wind he thought and then almost laughed. Never just the wind in Gotham, Bruce would have reprimand. Never just the fucking wind in Gotham, he repeated in his head and Bruce would have said nothing at the curse or the mockery but he’d have felt the admonishment and maybe the slight amusement in his silence.</p><p>A sound again and this time he didn’t hesitate, just shot. The bullets hit the wall and there was nothing. No gurgled sound, no yell of pain.</p><p>Nothing but the dark alley.</p><p>Never just the wind, Bruce said in his head and something inside of him twisted. He didn’t put away the guns, kept walking instead, hyper-aware of his surroundings. And the darkness around him.</p><p>It seemed to grow with every step he took. Encasing him, muffling the faint street lights behind him, smothering every last bit of sound and light. Suffocating him.</p><p>He had kept this inside of him somehow during the fear gas. There was so much else to scream about, so much other pain to relive that this small thing, the hands around his throat, pressing down until the world turned dark around him, didn’t merit being remembered.</p><p>He remembered them now though. He could just leave, the thought flashed through his head, his breath coming heavy all of a sudden.</p><p>Climb on top of the building next to the alley, climb higher until the city was below him and he could breathe again. Escape the dark if only for a moment and he could allow himself maybe even to turn towards Miagani Island, to stare at the W of Wayne Enterprise until it hurt, until he could not see the darkness beyond the burning W.</p><p>More noise and he stood still this time, only watched silently as the trash can in front of him toppled over and rolled around, seemingly for no reason.</p><p>Just the wind, he thought and he couldn’t even muster a sneer this time. Then something cold flushed through him as he saw what had been hiding behind the trash can.</p><p>Graffiti was nothing new in Gotham, and this one wasn’t even all that good. The wings weren’t straight, the color had faded over time and when it came to the tributes Gotham had created for its hero, there were more impressive attempts.</p><p>But something twisted inside of him as he stared at the misshapen drawing of the bat in front of him. Twisted and churned until he felt like screaming, and he always felt like screaming even though he now knew nobody would care to listen. Only those who wanted his screams in the first place.</p><p>But wasn’t it fitting in a way that he had found it here in the dark? His fingernails bored into his palm and he thought of Arkham.</p><p>Of hands around his throat and laughter. And his screams. Slowly dying as the darkness creeped in, both comfort and threat. Comforting him as it took him away from the pain and the laughter.</p><p>Threatening as he wondered if it would let him leave again afterwards.</p><p>And up there, there was Gotham, bathing in the light, protected by Batman and his lies of safety. But down here, here in the darkness, was the truth.</p><p>Without even thinking about it, he started walking again, his hand fumbling around with his earpiece until he was listening to the GCPD Police Dispatcher.</p><p>“A few of Penguin’s tugs were seen loading crates into a truck at Bleake Island,” the voice said in his ear. “Seem to be heavily armed, advice is to stand back and wait until Batman shows up.”</p><p>A smile spread over Jason’s face. Time to see the Bat in action, he thought. And see just what it would take to rid Gotham of his presence once and for all.</p><p>Behind him something softly rustled in the alley. Just the wind probably. Just the wind in Gotham.</p>
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